


Dreams in Avalon

by ami_ven



Category: Arthurian Mythology & Related Fandoms
Genre: Affalon | Avalon, Community: writerverse, Gen, Past Arthur Pendragon/Guinevere - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:34:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27628244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ami_ven/pseuds/ami_ven
Summary: Avalon was a kind of enchanted sleep, and Arthur dreamed.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Dreams in Avalon

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ community "writerverse" phase 24, challenge 08, prompts ‘King Arthur’ & “Long Night” (by The Corrs)

He dreamed, in Avalon.

Magic had always been something Arthur left to others, but he understood Nimue’s magic even less than he had Merlin’s. Avalon was not a place, he knew that much, but a state of semi-consciousness, a kind of enchanted sleep that was outside of anything he had ever known.

Mostly, Arthur slept. At times, he was in Camelot again, his queen and knights around him. Sometimes, he was riding into battle against Mordred, knowing what was to happen this time, but unable to stop it. Sometimes, he was in a strange city, all glass and metal, full of terrifying machines that raced by.

And sometimes, he rose from the dreams – never fully awake, always at least half-immersed in timelessness – to realize that he was alone. The hazy reality of now, a cavern lit with unearthly lights, a veil of magic surrounding him, was more vivid than the castle or battlefield, no matter how real they had seemed when he was there.

Arthur knew why Nimue had put him here, knew that he had a duty to fulfill in the future, but surfacing from dreams of Camelot, he could not help but feel utterly alone. His knights were dead. His beloved Guinevere was lost to him forever. They had not parted on good terms – partly his own fault, he could admit that, now – but now he would never have the chance to apologize. Merlin had tried to prepare Arthur for his fate, to wait in magical sleep until England needed him again, but neither of them had imagined the loneliness.

He would find new knights, in the future. Perhaps he would rebuild Camelot, reform the Round Table, defend England from all who would oppose her.

But he would be alone.

Around him, the veil of magic shimmered and Arthur let himself slide back into dreams. The memory of Guinevere held out her hand to him, and he took it, following her into the dark.

THE END


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